


Are You Coming?

by Loverontheleft



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverontheleft/pseuds/Loverontheleft
Summary: By request: —Brendon would 100% take you in his studio, stressed out, frustrated because he can’t figure out the right melody for a song he’s working on. He’d be so pissed but so hot…damn—Mmm just imagine b coming home from the studio all frustrated and pissed off and maybe he got in an argument with one of the guys about something and he’s kind of being short with you and then you just drop to your knees and yank his pants down and put him in your mouth so quickly and his eyes completely shift…I admittedly took some liberties with this request; I hope y’all still like it! I’m really quite pleased with it.Word count: 5.2k





	Are You Coming?

**Author's Note:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

“Call.” “Please.” The two words come in as two separate texts, both from contact B with a black heart next to it. You’re fumbling with your phone, calling him as requested.

“Hey babe, what’s-“

He cuts you off and you can hear it in his voice - the tension boiling over into sheer panic. “Babe, Y/n, please come here. Nothing is working and I can’t get - it’s all gone to shit and I can’t - I can’t-“ he breaks off into a frustrated shout.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll get in the car right now. Are you still at the studio?”

“Yes.” He sighs deeply and you can practically hear him pacing.

“I’m getting in the car. Hang tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise. I love you,” you tell him, and he repeats it back to you.

You stop at In-N-Out to get him food before you get on the 5 and swear when you see how backed up it is. You shouldn’t be surprised; it’s 6:30 on a Friday. You could be in this traffic for hours. “Fuck,” you swear under your breath and you reach for your Bluetooth earpiece he got you for driving. “Call B,” you say clearly, and the line starts ringing after a minute.

“Oh thank god, are you here?” The relief in his voice makes you want to cry.

“No baby, it’s gonna be a while. I’m stuck on the 5 and I don’t know when I’ll be moving.” Now it’s his turn to swear, and you say soothingly, “but talk to me Brendon, tell me what’s going on. Get it all off your chest.”

“I don’t - I can’t - it’s all fucking - fuck -“ and he’s panicking again and you slam your hand into the steering wheel, cursing this traffic. You just want to be with him, curled up on the floor of the studio, taking the problems away, making it all better for him- oh. Now that’s an idea.

“Bren. Baby, honey, breathe.” Your voice is soft and you wait until you hear his even breaths, a little shaky but steady. “Do you want me to distract you until I can get there?”

“Wha-what?”

“Do you want me to distract you until I can get there? I can…talk to you.” You think the connection dropped until you hear, soft and anxious, his ‘yes.’ You smile softly; he’s so sweet. He’s almost always so strong and solid for you that, while you of course don’t like that he’s having a panic attack, you like being able to take care of him for once. “Okay baby. Which side are you on?”

“The mixing and producing.”

“Okay. Are you sitting down?” When he tells you yes, you nod to yourself. “Good. What are you wearing?” He laughs a little and you can see him shaking his head at your question. “No, I’m serious. You were gone before I fully woke up this morning and I couldn’t tell when you kissed me goodbye. And it’s important for me to know. Also. Is the door locked?” The smile is audible in your voice.

“Grey t-shirt. Black jeans. It’s locked.” He sounds a little calmer.

“Good. Close your eyes baby, just relax and let me take care of you.” Traffic hasn’t moved at all and you adjust your earpiece. “As soon as I get there, I’m gonna crawl into your lap and kiss your lips and neck, running my hands down your chest. God, B, your mouth is so nice; could make out with you for hours, those lips on mine and our tongues rubbing and teasing and sliding against each other; fuck, I love your mouth, baby, get so wet just from kissing you.. and when I can’t stand it anymore, I’m gonna get that shirt off you and kiss down your chest until I’m down on my knees in front of you. You’ll look down and see me down there, looking back up at you, hands on your thighs, my eyes wide and innocent like you like, biting my lip, begging you. ‘Take your pants off, baby,’ l’ll whisper, and-“

“Should I?” He interrupts you and you smile.

“If you want to play along, yes. The door is locked after all.” You wait until you hear the sound of denim being shoved down, and you sigh happily. “Yeah baby, and you’ll get them off and I’ll press closer and palm you-“ he moans softly and you know he’s really playing along now. “Just feeling how hard you are for me. I’ll slip my hand into your underwear and wrap my hand around you, just stroking. Gonna stroke yourself for me until I can get there, baby?” He makes a soft sound that you interpret as a ‘yes,’ and keep talking. “You feel so good in my hand, baby, love your cock. Love watching you slip through my fist and brushing my tongue over the tip.” He moans a little and you smile. “Lick your hand, baby, spit, something. Get it real wet, like my mouth is gonna be.”

“Jesus Christ, baby…so sexy” he sighs but he complies and you know he’s grasping himself again when you hear his gentle “oh, fuck.”

“Gonna tease you a little bit, gonna just lick you, gonna keep stroking you, jacking you over my tongue, eyes on yours. Know you love watching me play with your dick, love seeing me get so hot for you. And when you’ve got some pre-cum for me to use, I’ll go even faster, my hand sliding over you - your cock slick for me right now, baby? Your dick nice and hard and shiny with your spit and cum, squeezed tight in your hand?”

“Fuck yes, god, baby…”

“And when my hand starts to cramp, because you know it always does,” and you both laugh softly, knowingly; “I’ll take all of you in my mouth, my lips soft and brushing over your length while my tongue rolls and teases all the way down. God, wanna hear you moan my name as I suck you off.”

“Fuck Y/n,” he gasps and you can hear a soft sound, skin on slick skin, in the background and you know he’s sunken low in the chair, his eyes are shut, lips slightly parted as he jerks himself off to your voice.

“Don’t come yet B,” you tell him, “go slower, gentler, baby. You don’t have to stop touching yourself; love when you touch yourself, but don’t come yet, okay?”

“O-okay,” he stammers a little and the background noise fades. He’s still moaning softly, but that’s nothing new. You tighten both hands around the steering wheel and press your thighs together. “Love your mouth, Y/n, fuck…” he sighs and you smile to yourself. “Wanna come in it. You close?”

“To you or…?” You let the question hang in the air.

He laughs a little. “To me. But the second one too; you acting nasty, baby, fingering yourself in your car in traffic? Sucking on your fingers, wishing it was my dick?”

“We’ve moved a little bit, maybe 3 or 4 miles,” you tell him. “And I’ve been trying to hold off on touching or teasing myself, wanna be real hot and on edge for you when I get there.”

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat. “As nice as that is, wanna hear you play too, wanna hear what your words do to you too, wanna know your mouth gets you off too. Touch yourself for me, honey.”

You never could deny him. “Okay, gimme a sec,” you tell him, thankful for your tinted windows as you wiggle your leggings down, foot firmly on the brake. You’re thankful for this traffic for once. “Oh, fuck, oh god, Bren, I’m so wet,” you whimper and he groans. “God, just thinking about being on my knees for you, your dick in my mouth, gets me so ready for you.”

“Honey,” he sighs, and you can hear his fist start to slide noisily over himself.

“No baby boy, slow down,” you beg, rocking against your fingers, head tipped back against your seat headrest. “I’ve got miles to go before I get to you, don’t rush, please baby, let me take care of you, let me do this for you.”

“Fuck, okay, yeah,” he sighs. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you repeat, a sharp cry escaping when your fingers go deeper and you imagine his tongue replacing his fingers to soothe the ache.

“You okay, baby?” He sounds concerned and you moan a little, lost in the fantasy of his face between your legs now.

“Ye-yeah, just…thinking.” He chuckles and you roll your head back, whimpering. “Thinking bout that tongue of yours, sliding deep into my pussy, fucking me good with your mouth while your thumb rubs my clit…”

“You playing with it for me, Y/n?”

“Yeah baby, I’m so wet for you that my fingers keep slipping off of my clit and deep into my pussy though…you’re so much better at this than me. Please, Brendon, can I please keep sucking your dick?”

“God, baby, begging to suck me off? Fucking love when you do that. Such a good girl, fucking love it. Go ahead Y/n, get back down on your knees and get my cock in your mouth, let me come on your tongue, let me watch you swallow my cum, dig your nails into my thighs as you push closer, taking me deeper, wanting all of me…god baby, you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You’ve heeded your own advice and have slowed your fingers down, but you’re so goddamn wet from his praise that you’re pretty sure you’re gonna need to get the car detailed since it’s covering your thighs and likely spreading down onto the seat. Oh well. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten you coming in your car seat.

“Yeah, baby. God, Brendon, want all of that. You still jacking yourself off, still picturing my pretty mouth? Thinking about coming on your good girl’s tongue? She wants it, wants your cum.” Traffic has been moving again and you slipped your hand out of your wetness a few moments ago to try focus on the road and Brendon.

“Fuck yes. Hear that engine purring, are you coming, baby?”

“Yeah B, I’m so close,” and you are in both ways. You’re maybe 5 miles from your exit and once you’re off the highway, it should be easier - not fast, but easier. “I need maybe 30 more minutes and then I’ll be there, swallowing everything you have to give me,” you promise. “And I’ll come so hard.”

“Gonna fuck yourself with your fingers while you suck me off?”

“Yeah baby, gonna spread my knees so you can watch my fingers tease my pussy as you fill my mouth.”

“Fuck, baby, need you soon,” he moans and you whimper. “Can’t hold on much longer, gotta fucking - gonna fucking come so hard in your mouth.”

“So I need to go grocery shopping after this, I know we need more almond milk and eggs; do you need anything?”

“Wh-what?” He’s confused and he’s no longer stroking himself roughly; there’s silence in the background.

“You said you couldn’t hold on much longer so I’m changing the subject. Grocery shopping. So sexy, I know,” you tease. “So what do you need me to add to the list?”

He’s laughing and you can hear the appreciation in his voice. “Chocolate syrup. And whipped cream.”

“B, why do I get the feeling you have different intentions for those things than a normal person?”

He sounds indignant. “Well I would hope no one else has the same intentions for these as I do; I’d better be the only one decorating and cleaning you up.”

“You’ve managed to derail my change of subject. I think you can make anything sexual,” you comment. You can practically hear his lips curl into a smile.

“Probably. Wanna try again? Give me a tougher one.”

“No, I want to keep you distracted so you’re ready to play when I get there.”

“Fair enough. How’s traffic looking?”

“We haven’t moved an inch.”

“Fuck, Y/n, I need you.” His voice isn’t lustful or longing; there’s a tremor in it and you know the anxiety is creeping back, the panic and the dread and the racing heart.

“I know B, I know. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna make it okay.” He’s breathing hard now but trying to stay calm. “Just keep breathing slow and steady, okay baby?”

“So fucking stupid,” he spits and you recoil a little, not sure what his target was there. “I’m so fucking stupid for being upset about this, fuck!”

“No no no, don’t say that, honey. Whatever it is, you’re allowed to feel this way. Don’t say those mean things about my man. He’s good and kind and smart and funny and loyal and loving, yes. Stupid, no. Never.”

He’s silent for a long moment and you close your eyes, praying. Please let him be okay, please let him be okay. Please let him stop taking this out on himself. Please. And then he’s breathing again, soft and slow, like he’s really making an effort and you hear the hitch in his throat. Fuck, he’s near tears. Fuck fuck fuck. You look around as you murmur soft, soothing words and realize if you take this next exit, you can take a back way to the studio and maybe get there in the next twenty minutes. Someone or something is looking out for you and the traffic surges forward, with enough of a gap on your right for you to jerk the wheel sharply and change lanes, albeit pissing off a few cars behind you if the cacophony of horns is a clue. You take the exit and tell him, “B, I just got off the 5 at 134, I’m coming in off of 7th, I’ll be there so soon, honey, so soon - just hang on, okay?”

“Okay.” His voice is even softer and your heart breaks. “Thank you, baby.”

“I love you,” you tell him, and you repeat it over and over again.

Fifteen minutes later, you have to fumble for your pass to show the guard, but she lets you in; you park roughly, grab the food and your purse, and (accidentally) slam the car door shut. You don’t think you’ve ever moved so quickly; the doors buzz open with your pass and you tell him, “I’m here, B, I’m here. What studio?”

“Third floor, third door. Pretty sure it’s got Panic! on the door.”

You glance at the elevator and shake your head. Fuck it. Stairs. “I’m really glad we have so much sex, honey,” you tell him and he laughs. “No I’m serious, it’s good cardio. I’m in the best shape of my life from fucking you.” You open the stairwell door and scan the hall, and sure enough, there’s the door. “I’m here baby, unlock the door for me.”

You can hear him scramble, both on the phone and in reality and when he flings the door open, you push into the room, throwing your arms around him. He wraps you in his and holds you tightly, breathing in your shampoo. His shoulders are shaking and his chest is heaving and he just breaks, bringing you both to the floor.

“It’s okay honey, it’s okay,” you soothe, shifting so you’re straddling him on the ground, arms around his neck, letting him cling to you and rock you both back and forth as your hands smooth over his back. “Sex or food or talking?”

He pulls back, eyes bleary, but attempting a smile. “All three. That order.” You kiss him hard and that’s when you notice his jeans are still unzipped and he’s still more hard than not. You stand shakily, holding out your hand and he rises too, making a little surprised noise when you push him back in his chair he vacated when he let you in the room. “Baby, you don’t have to-“

“Let me take care of you,” you tell him, kneeling between his legs and tugging at his jeans. He raises his hips and you yank both his jeans and boxer briefs down, covering him in your mouth.

“Fuck, yes baby, your mouth,” he sighs, and you take one hand to place both of his in your hair. He runs his fingers back through it, settling at the back of your head, massaging lightly as you move slowly, tongue twisting around him, teasing the underside of his cock as you pull off for the first time. “Baby, I won’t last long like this,” he tells you, and you shrug.

“It’s not about longevity. It’s about you getting some stress and tension out.” And with that, you wrap your hand around him and stroke him softly, just letting the head of his cock rest on your lower lip, tongue flicking out over him. You moan when you get a hint of him, warm and salty, and your hand speeds up as you meet his eyes. “Gonna come on my tongue B? Gonna let me taste you? Remember who’s your good girl, who wants everything you can give her, wants to swallow it all for you,” and your voice is all he needs before he’s coming, hard, hips jerking and hands tightening in your hair. He doesn’t need to move your head though, you’re already closing your lips around him and breathing cyclically, swallowing and sucking and stroking him through it. Your left hand slips down between your thighs, pressing through your leggings and underwear, rubbing against your clit roughly. His hips twitch again and you think he’s finishing so you swallow hard around him, rocking against your fingers hard, but the tightening sensation of your throat sets him off again - is it really again if he didn’t stop?

“Holy fuck Y/n,” he gasps, back arching a little as you press in closer, taking him halfway and no longer stroking but just squeezing, pulsing your tightening grip around him before sliding your hand down and back to cradle his balls in your palm, rolling and pressing lightly. “Tighter, baby,” he chokes out and you comply, your grip closing over him more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses and you’re using all of your breathing tricks to keep swallowing without choking. He slumps back in his seat and you let him slip from your mouth, but there’s a rivulet of cum sliding from the corner of your mouth. You both notice at the same time and he leans forward. “Baby, you’ve got-“ But your tongue flicks out and collects everything before he can do anything and he groans again. “So good baby, so fucking sexy,” he whispers. You smile, rest your head on his thigh, and he strokes your hair lovingly as you gaze up at him, eyes soft and chest still heaving a little, fingers still moving but in gentle circles now. He glances down and sees, moaning. “Get up here, Y/n.” You scramble into his lap, legs spread wide across him so he can replace your fingers with two of his. “So fucking wet,” he sighs and you nod, kissing him as he touches you. “Want me to get you off through your leggings, baby? Want me to just rub your clit hard and get you coming in my lap? Or you wanna strip down for me? So good, so sweet and good for me, you can have anything you want.”

“Fuck, Brendon, do what you want,” you beg, rolling against his fingers. “Need to come though.”

“Think I wanna see you come for me fully clothed and then strip your wet leggings, your soaked panties off you and fuck you right,” he whispers in your ear and you moan, rocking hard against his fingers, still circling and pressing. “Yeah baby, just like that,” he tells you, fingers working hard to create the friction that’s gonna have you only able to say his name when you come hard. You’re panting and grinding down against his hand, the pressure perfect. He can tell you’re close. “Be my good girl and come for me,” he sighs in your ear and you do, gasping and moaning his name loud, body trembling as he keeps praising you. Finally, you slump forward, head on his shoulder. “So pretty, coming like that,” he murmurs, fingers just barely circling over you now. “Strip for me baby, stand when you can, let me see you.” Legs shaking a little, you stand and shove your leggings down, followed by the lounge top. You’re standing in the silky black panties and bra he loves, so you take your time, reaching back to unclasp the bra, letting it fall from your chest before hooking both thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and pushing down. You’re totally naked in front of him and he’s breathing hard, kicking his jeans and underwear off before tugging his shirt off over his head. “Get back here, baby,” he tells you quietly and you do so without hesitation. He runs two fingers against you and you both inhale sharply. “God, so fucking wet, so ready for me. So good baby.” You grin, rocking your hips forward to brush your wetness over the head of his cock. “Tease,” he chuckles and you give him an innocent look. “Thank god for vasectomies,” he murmurs as he takes you by both hips and pulls you forward to fill you.

“Holy fuck, Brendon,” you gasp, rolling against him as he thrusts up into you gently. “Feels so good,” you tell him and he bites your neck, telling you how good you feel too.

“Wanna take care of you the way you take care of me, baby,” he tells you, and he stands, still deep in you, and sets you down on the couch behind both of you. He slips from you then, and you moan desperately, but he’s back on top of you soon, spreading your legs again and rocking back into you. “So good,” he whispers, and you nod, back arching and hips rolling. “I know you need me behind you to come, and I promise baby, you’ll come,” he moans, and you do too.

“This feels so good B, take your time,” you laugh and he kisses you hard, tongue teasing yours and his strokes getting harder, rougher. You’re pretty sure your hips will be bruised tomorrow but you don’t care. You can’t stop the breathy moans he’s getting from you, but you don’t want to stop, because you know your sounds of satisfaction fuel him and he feels so good. He’s right, you do need to be fucked hard from behind to come with him in you, but he always makes everything feel so right that you’re not in a rush. And then he offers.

“Want me to take you the way you like it, baby?”

“Oh fuck yes,” you sigh, and he slides out of you (you can’t help but whimper at the loss) and you turn, burying your head in your arms on the couch while he pulls your hips up and back. “Yes Bren, just like that, fuck me just like that,” you beg and he whispers how good you are, how sweet, and then he’s inside you, thrusting hard, one hand clutching your hip near the front so he can slide forward and play with your clit when you ask for it (and you will), the other in your hair, tugging occasionally, just enough to elicit the sharp cries you both love. This position is for you, but he loves it too because it lets him go so much deeper, fuck you so much harder, really get you panting and begging for it. “Oh god,” you moan lowly and you both know exactly what kind of orgasm he’s fucking you towards; when your words are high and tight and breathy, it’s gonna be a mostly trembling, shaking orgasm, clenching around his cock as you buck against him. But when you’re low and moaning like this, you both know you’re going to end up changing the sheets by the time he’s done with you. “Fuck, Brendon, yes, fuck me right there.” Another low moan and his cock throbs inside you.

“Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my dick, hot and wet and slick for me? Want you to, baby, want you to come for me, come all over me, fucking ruin this couch, come for me.”

“Oh god, Brendon,” you purr, rocking back hard against him. “Clit, please.” He grins, knowing you’re moments away. Once his fingers rub you, you’re going to be a shaking mess for him. The hand on your hip slides down and presses against your clit and you’re coming, and his hand tugs your hair and you can’t help it, you come so hard for him; he’s still fucking you through it and praising you softly, telling you how wonderful you are, how sexy you are, how much he loves feeling you come on him like this, how much he loves you period. “Fuck,” you moan, climax subsiding and you feel your legs start to give out. He slips from you and turns you over again so you’re on your side and he can cradle you to his chest, both of you breathing hard, both of you slick with your climax. “Food?” You offer after a minute and he laughs, kissing your forehead, nodding.

You’re both sitting on the floor, back against the couch and he’s devouring the burger while you steal his fries; you ate dinner before he texted but they’re so tempting. “B, have you eaten today?” When he nods, you narrow your eyes and he defensively points to the burger in his hand, mouth full. “Other than this?” And he shakes his head. “B. You have to eat. Your blood sugar was probably low, no wonder you were so tense. We should have eaten first.”

“Maybe, but I really wanted to fuck you,” he says with a soft smile, and you laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. “You got me so worked up on the phone, I wouldn’t have made it if we had eaten first.” He finishes the burger and wipes his mouth, and you run a hand through his hair. He moans a little and slumps down until his head is in your lap and you’re massaging his head with both hands. “Freaked out,” he starts, looking up at you, and you run a hand down his chest soothingly. “Freaked out because I just - I couldn’t get the drum part how I wanted it and Dan and Maya got into a fight this morning, which I knew, so he was tense and I was being a dick anyway and -“ he takes a steadying breath. “And he said something, I couldn’t hear it, but Kenny did and it must have been bad because Kenny wouldn’t tell me and I started yelling and - and-“ he sighs, closing his eyes. You scratch his head gently and he moans a little, arching into your touch. “And then later I snapped over something, and it was my fault I didn’t hit the note I wanted but I just said I couldn’t focus with the drums so loud and Dan walked out and Nicole went after him and they didn’t come back and- and- fuck, everyone leaves. Everyone leaves and I push them away and I don’t know how to- I can’t-“ his eyes are still shut and you whisper soothing things, brushing a hand over his forehead. “I can handle them leaving, I would hate it, but I could get through it eventually. But you- I don’t want to push you away, but it’s only a matter of time before I go too far and say something too stupid and I don’t want you to leave, I can’t bear it if you leave.” His eyes are open now and yours are welling with tears. “Please don’t cry, baby, please.” You try to stop, sniffling. “I can’t bear to see you hurt, I can’t stand it. I love you so much. I can’t lose you too.”

“I love you,” you tell him, voice catching. “And I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, remember?” You nudge your ring with your thumb. “You’re not going to lose me. And you’re not going to lose Dan or Nicole or Kenny either; you just had a bad day. You’re not trying to be a dick about it, but this band, this music, it’s your baby now and you want to see it grow how you hoped and dreamed. You’re a defensive parent and you’re passionate and sometimes, yeah, you speak without thinking, but no one holds it against you. We know you. We love you.” He takes a soft, shaky breath and you smooth a hand over his hair again. “Just apologize. You’re such a good person B, you always apologize when you’ve hurt someone. Today was just a rough day and tomorrow will be better. Call him tonight, call all of them tonight. Hell, invite them all over, partners too, I don’t care. We can order pizza and watch a movie and stay up late and just hang out. No music talk, just friends, yeah? I think you all need it.”

He nods and sits up, turning to pull you into his lap now. “You’re so good,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “So good to me, good for me, so wonderful. I love you Y/n.”

You smile, kissing him softly. “I love you, B.” He sighs and pulls you closer, really kissing you, lips moving over yours and tongue flicking out against yours. “Damn,” you moan into his mouth. “Don’t make me retract the offer to have them over,” you warn with a smile. “We’re both still naked, I could easily distract you again, keep you here, have you fuck me on the recording side,” you whisper, kissing his neck. “Make a private EP, just for us, baby.” His eyes go wide and his fingers slide down your hips toward your inner thighs.

“Holy shit, baby, that’s a good idea. You’re not just my good girl, are you? You’re my clever, naughty girl too, aren’t you?” You nod and moan as he moves his lips across your jaw and down your neck. “Say it baby, say it for me.”

“I’m not just your good girl, Brendon, I’m your brilliant, naughty girl too.” Your voice is soft and breathy, head rolling back as his lips find your pulse point and suck lightly.

“Fuck, that’s the opening line, that right there,” he exclaims and lifts you both to your feet. “Gonna eat you out baby, gonna lick and suck and fuck that perfect pussy, gonna have you coming so hard for me, gonna get you rocking on my face, my tongue deep in you, licking your clit for you; such a good girl, letting me record you coming for me.” He kisses you hard and you moan, rocking forward, seeking. But he pulls away and heads for the panel to hit some buttons before crossing to the recording side door. He turns to look back at you and smiles, holding out his hand. “Are you coming?”

“Fuck yeah I am.”


End file.
